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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917591">The Last Time Until the Next</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestworstperson/pseuds/bestworstperson'>bestworstperson</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Reincarnation, part hurt part comfort all feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:22:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>931</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917591</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestworstperson/pseuds/bestworstperson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>a short lil history of nicky and joe</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Last Time Until the Next</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You told me you didn’t want to go to that dinner. </p><p>This was the last time.</p><p>You were tired after I’d run you ragged around town all day. I’d said I needed to run errands, but really I’d just wanted to show you off. How could I not? After all, you’d come back to me. Again. And, god, you were gorgeous. I’m acutely aware of how lucky I am when you come back to me. When we meet as adults you’re always much more discerning. I don’t blame you. I’m reckless, impulsive, and selfish. I only think of myself and what I want to do regardless of who it may hurt. Or at least, that was what you said to me. </p><p>This was the last time, too. </p><p>Or maybe the time before that. It all runs together, the bad parts. I try not to remember those. Well, I try not to remember the parts where you hurt me. I have a detailed mental Rolodex of all the times I’ve hurt you. And, god, have there been so many times. There was the time you came back and I was kissing someone else. You said you didn’t mind. You weren’t always here. We weren’t always together. You weren’t always you. But I could tell you were hurting. You were always willing to hurt yourself to spare me. Then there was the time you asked me if I thought we’d be together forever. Or rather, if we’d keep finding each other forever and choosing each other when we did. I said no. I was trying not to hurt you, trying to stop hurting you. You see, in between the last time and this one I’d convinced myself I was holding you back. I thought if I said no you’d move on. But I’d miscalculated. I’d looked in your eyes when I’d said it. “No.” I watched the light go out in them. I remembered, then, that the first time you’d told me I was your light.</p><p>But anyway, back to last time. </p><p>You didn’t want to go to the dinner, but I made you. It ended up being a bad idea, one of my worst. An impressive feat given that, in our time together, I have had many bad ideas. He was there. Yes. Him. I knew he would be, it was at his house...another thing I’d neglected to mention...but if I’d told you you never would have agreed to come. Well. Relented. You always relent when it comes to me. The second we turned onto the street you knew. I felt your eyes on me as my fingers tightened around the steering wheel. I opened my mouth to apologize, but you? You, as you so often did, whispered: “I know.” He greeted us immediately and you thanked him for the invitation in that earnest way you say everything. You always mean what you say, which is how I know you meant it when you said you were done. And how I always know you mean it when you come back. When you take me back. At the party, you were at your best. You were alluring, as ever, but last time was unreal. Being with you always feels like magic, but the last time...  </p><p>I watched from across the room as you charmed his guests. Later I’d call them pretentious and you would say “but still kind.” You also always saw the best in people. In me. I told you I was lucky. After the party, you wanted to go home. And I knew it. I should have taken you home. It is my deepest regret that I didn’t. I asked if you wanted to go home knowing you would say no, for me, like you always did. Do. When we got there it was too crowded and I knew that, too, but we stayed. It all happened so quickly. I saw it too late. The knife. The fight. The blood. God, there was so much blood. And you. Not the target, but the victim. </p><p> </p><p>I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know. I know. I know. </p><p> </p><p>Thank god that was the last time. </p><p>This time you find me at the hotel bar and you’re in my favorite suit. I try and bring it up, the last time, that is, but you place your hand on mine before I can. An understanding. You tell me I’m your light. It’s the first time you’ve said since that time and it feels like a blessing to hear it again. A blessing to be with you. You make the sacrifices but somehow I get the blessings. I know I said I was lucky, but that doesn’t quite cover it. You talk for hours, which is always my favorite part of when you come back. You tell me about the last time and the time before and the time before. I know the stories, of course, about last time. Well. Most of them. At first, I worry I’ve forgotten that time or the time before or the time before. But then I realize that sometimes...sometimes I’m not there at all. Maybe that’s my sacrifice. </p><p>This time I get distracted. See someone else across the bar. Stare too long on purpose. I’m hurting you. Like I so often do. Your sacrifice so I don’t have to feel mine. I catch your eye again. See the light go out in them again. Just like last time. I pull you closer and before you can say it, I whisper “I’m sorry.”  </p><p>Like always, you forgive me.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My friend reminded me of Tongari's 25 Lives (link below) and asked for the backstory for one of the scenes. And then a few months later The Old Guard came out so now it lives here. </p><p>P.s. this MIGHT become a series so if you'd be interested in that please let me know</p><p>Inspo: https://www.shousetsubangbang.com/mirror/25-lives/</p></blockquote></div></div>
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